


AND THIS IS THE TIME I LASSOED MY SOULMATE TO ME

by orphan_account



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Established Relationship, Everyone Is Gay, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Crack, Gen, I Will Go Down With This Ship, Nobetawedielikemen, Not Canon Compliant, Out of Character, Smut, Soulmates, at all ever, at some point anyway, bc we said so, endgame didnt happen, its 2 am leave us alone, lap dance, lasso dance yk the one, neither did infinity war, probably, put these in my obituary, rip canon and my sleep schedule, spoiler alert it's harley and peter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-10
Updated: 2020-03-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:54:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 5,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23091418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: A series of ships involving an au where the lasso dance pulls your soulmate towards you. (tags added as ships are added)
Relationships: Harley Keener/Peter Parker, James "Bucky" Barnes/Sam Wilson, James “Bucky” Barnes/T’challa, Loki/Wade Wilson, Michelle Jones/Shuri, Tony Stark/Stephen Strange
Comments: 3
Kudos: 97





	1. Harley/Peter

**Author's Note:**

> pls dont hate us 4 this lol

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hurt/comfort <3

“Hey kid,” Tony said as he entered the lab, “I’m flying an old friend out in a couple weeks.” 

“Okay?” Peter said slowly, wondering what the hell that had to do with him. 

“I just wanted to give you a heads up.” 

And that was it. Or so Peter thought. 

***

True to his word, Tony’s ‘old friend’ showed up two and a half weeks later. Oddly, his friend wasn’t really old at all. He was only a year older than Peter and he was exceedingly attractive. And his accent, oh my fucking god. 

Harley was polite and snarky and smart as hell and so flirty that Peter’s cheeks were permanently stained red whenever he was around the other boy. 

Peter was in deep shit to say the least. 

Over the course of the next few months, Peter and Harley became close friends. They hung out together nearly all the time; some of their favorite activities included giving Tony gray hairs, blowing shit up (which gave Tony gray hairs), and having movie nights with a fuck ton of snacks (Harley was one of those snacks but Peter had yet to eat him). 

The more they talked, the more they opened up to each other. Harley about his dad and what it was like taking care of his sister because his mom was always working and Peter about spider-man and Ben’s death. 

Peter found himself actually falling for Harley and, much to his dismay, there was nothing he could do to stop it. Harley was just so goddamn great. 

Harley, in contrast, was unaware of his feelings until 2 am one day when he and Peter couldn’t stop laughing at the stupidest remarks. He realized that he would literally do anything to make this precious baby boy smile. 

Alas, they were both pining idiots, so neither confessed their feelings and instead decided to torture the poor author of this fanfic. 

“Hey,” Peter said one day, looking up from the Buzzfeed article on his phone. “There’s a new phenomenon. The lasso of lovers.”

Harley snorted. “The what now?”

“The lasso of lovers. You just-“ Peter began to lasso Harley and yelped when Harley flew forward, crashing into Peter on the opposite end of the couch. 

“You- uhh… yeah.” Peter giggled. “And then your supposed soulmate just… gets lassoed to you.”

“Peculiar,” Harley said. 

Bursting out laughing, Peter asked, “Since when do you say words like ‘peculiar?’”

“Uh, since now, obviously.” Harley rolled his eyes. 

“Obviously,” Peter teased. 

Harley yawned, stretching his arms behind his head which caused his shirt to ride up a little. Peter tried not to stare, he really did, but when that perfect expanse of midriff was there on display how could he not? He thought he was being subtle about it but by the look on Harley’s face, he must not have been. 

Smirking, Harley stood up. “I’m gonna head up to bed, darlin’,” he drawled in the stupid fucking accent, “Sleep well.” 

“Yeah,” Peter mumbled. “Goodnight.” 

This boy would be the death of him. 

***

Suffocating. He couldn’t breathe. His screams were falling on deaf ears and with every voice crack he lost more air. He was struggling, his lungs collapsing, he, he, he-

“You’re safe, darlin,’ it’s me.” A warm voice drifted into his dreams and suddenly he could breathe. His eyes flew open and he sat up on reflex, head butting Harley on the way. 

“Ouch!” Harley exclaimed. Peter’s voice wasn’t working. He lifted a hand to his cheek, pulling it away with fresh tears. 

“It’s okay, baby, I’ve got you.” Harley’s voice soothed Peter, who would’ve been lulled if not for the excruciatingly loud sobs wracking his body. 

Harley tucked Peter under his chin, kissing the top of his head and murmuring sweet nothings into his hair. Peter let himself be comforted, just this once, by the boy who he might’ve been a bit wrong about; Harley was not the death of him. Harley was the water Peter had been desperately looking for in the desert of his dreams. 

Peter sighed contentedly as Harley leaned back against the headboard, both of the boys already falling back into the waiting arms of sleep. 

And there they stayed until morning, when Tony woke them up with a camera flash and chocolate chip pancakes.


	2. Bucky/T'Challa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> bucky is baby in this and i think thats very sexy of him  
> -levesqueen

WARNING: EXPLICIT SEXUAL CONTENT

It was guys night out. The only sober person was Steve (mostly; the super in him cancelled out most alcohol) and Bucky didn’t realize how agile T’challa was. What had Shuri called this? Throwing ass? Whatever it was, he was thoroughly enjoying it. Bucky had never really been into dames, but only now in the 21st century was he comfortable enough to do something about his attraction towards men. 

Jokingly, Bucky did the classic lasso and pull move he’d seen in movies when T’Challa turned back to face him. 

He was not, however, expecting to receive a lapful of T’Challa himself. Oddly convenient. 

T’Challa’s eyes were wide, looking at Bucky like he was searching for an answer to some question he wouldn’t voice. 

As the silence stretched, Bucky stared back. Eventually, he asked, “I didn’t realize that move would actually bring you towards me?” He’d never seen T’Challa blush before, but the man was certainly painted red now. Steve coughed. Bucky hoped T’Challa didn’t notice his pitching tent. Or anyone else for that matter. 

Tony’s laughter cut through the tense silence like a hot knife through butter, “I should’ve seen that one coming!”

Bruce’s quiet chuckles soon joined along with Clint and Steve’s forced laughter. Rhodey and Sam were giggling like schoolgirls, possibly more drunk than T’Challa. 

“Um…” Bucky stuttered. Think of a quick save, James, he thought to himself. “Igottapeebye!” He bolted out of his seat, T’Challa stumbling out of his lap, and raced to the bathrooms. He’d just gotten the sinks to splash water on his flushed face when he heard the door open, familiar footfalls resounding in the otherwise empty linoleum bathroom.

“James?” T’Challa asked, “Are you alright?” 

Shakily, Bucky nodded his head. He was having a difficult time focusing on what was going on around him when he had a hard-on for the King of Wakanda, who was standing just to his left. 

“Do you know what that means, that when you pulled I ended up by you?”

“Is it some weird future thing that no one decided to tell me about?” He asked skeptically. 

T’Challa let out a small huff of laughter. “No, you probably didn’t know it existed because your soulmate wasn’t alive in the 40s. So you never had to deal with the whole lasso thing.” 

Bucky’s eyebrows furrowed adorably. “What?”

“Alright, so when you do the lasso thing that you did to me out there, your supposed soulmate is pulled towards you. Since you’re so strong and I was so close, I fell into your lap.” Bucky gave himself a moment to take that in. 

Then, a slow smirk spread across his face. “Babydoll, that has got to be the best thing I’ve heard in nearly a century.” Face falling slightly, he continued, “Unless you don’t want me. Which would be totally fine, I’ll respect that.” 

T’Challa released an exasperated sigh and said, “James I was just out there throwing it back for you, how could I not want you?” Bucky almost didn’t know what to say to that. Almost.

“Wanna get out of here?” T’Challa gave Bucky his million dollar smile.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

______

Bucky wondered what he was thinking when he invited T’Challa to his place. He’d never hooked up with a guy before, much less a king of one of the most powerful countries on earth, That thought just made him hotter. Luckily, T’Challa (who seemed to have experience; thank god) took Bucky by the belt loops and pulled him in for a bruising kiss. 

Suddenly they were inseparable, Bucky’s clothes being almost ripped off by the other until they were in nothing but their underwear. Bucky breathed in the clean scent of T’Challa, muscles relaxing as T’Challa worked his neck. There would definitely be marks, and Bucky definitely didn’t have a problem with that. 

T’Challa pulled back a bit and Bucky was horrified to hear himself whimper at the loss of contact. “You’re sure?” Bucky nodded enthusiastically. T’Challa picked up the red jumper he’d been wearing earlier in the night and pulled out a small bottle. 

“I always come prepared,” he said when he caught Bucky’s eyebrows knitting themselves together. 

After climbing onto the bed and propping himself against some pillows, T’Challa patted the area next to him. Bucky clambered his way into bed and eagerly obliged when T’Challa motioned for Bucky to hold his hand out. T’Challa coated Bucky’s fingers in lube and moved his hand to begin prepping T’Challa.

Any worries Bucky had about not doing this right flew out the window when T’Challa let out a breathy moan. Continuing to open the man with his fingers, Bucky leaned down to place wet, open-mouthed kisses along the span of T’Challa’s neck. It was only fair after all the bruises Bucky was sporting on his own neck. 

Soon T’Challa was panting with want. Bucky had just hit that sweet spot, making T’Challa arch off the bed. “Please, I’m ready,” he practically whined. “James.” 

And how could Bucky deny him when he looked so pretty all flushed and just aching to be fucked? Palming himself, Bucky lubed up his cock and positioned it at T’Challa’s entrance. 

He teased a bit before finally pushing into T’Challa, groaning as he bottomed out. T’Challa met Bucky with every desperate thrust, and Bucky whimpered T’Challa’s name over and over and over again, climbing and climbing until-

T’Challa tensed, groaning out Bucky’s name, and Bucky came silently, breathing erratic. Coming down from his high, he had half the mind to roll onto his side before T’Challa pushed him off himself. No words were spoken between the lovers, nothing except the soft brush of T’Challa’s fingers through Bucky’s hair as Bucky drifted off.

______

Bucky awoke to his limbs tangled with those of a sleeping, naked T’Challa. 

He gazed silently at his beautiful lover for a few moments before T’Challa groggily said, “Quit staring at me while I sleep, James,” but there was a content smile on his face. 

“Hi,” Bucky whispered. 

“Hey yourself.”

Bucky hummed, lightly running a hand between T’Challa’s shoulder blades. “Wanna go get breakfast, doll?” 

“Breakfast sounds nice,” T’Challa mumbled, “but I also wanna stay here forever.”

“I do, too. Although, I know for a fact we’re both starving so let’s go get something to eat, yeah?” 

Reluctantly, they climbed out of bed and made their way to the common floor holding hands. The team was gathered around the kitchen table looking way too chipper at this godforsaken hour. They realized why a moment later when the flash of a camera went off. Approximately a minute and a half later, T’Challa’s message tone went off. When he checked it, he saw a message from Shuri sent to the entire group. 

I called it! Everybody in this chat (minus T’Challa and Bucky) owes me $10!  
Attachment: one (1) image

Groaning, T’Challa hid his face in his soulmate’s—admittedly defined—chest. Neither of them could really complain much though, because all the teasing they’d get was worth it as long as they had each other.


	3. Bruce/Clint

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this one is platonic and includes mild homophobia from Clint

TRIGGER WARNING: INTERNALIZED HOMOPHOBIA

Bruce only kept Facebook for two things: catching up with his friends’ families and the news. The latest was that the lasso dance brought your soulmate soaring into your arms via invisible lasso; he knew it worked because he’d seen it with his owns eyes the previous night with Bucky and T’Challa (much to Steve’s chagrin) (Bruce wondered if Steve realized what pining was) and had been too scared and hungover to try it that morning. Now here he was, bored, hyped up on caffeine, and curious. And you know what they say about curiosity…

“I can’t believe I’m doing this.” He muttered, moving the laptop from his lap and standing up, stretching his arms over his head and morning when his back muscles released with a satisfying pop. He shook his shoulders out before lassoing. It felt different that he’d expected; he didn’t feel a pull. It just felt like a normal lasso dance…

…until he heard a very loud, very angry, “WHAT THE FUCK?” coming from down the hall from his apartment followed by more swearing and what sounded like stumbling. It was a man, Bruce could tell, and he sounded familiar. Almost like- BANG!

“Clint?” Bruce stopped mid-lasso at the sight of a panting Clint glowering at him from the doorway. 

“You,” Clint practically hissed. 

“You?” Bruce asked, “And me?” 

Clint had the nerve to look offended by that even though two seconds ago he’d been furious about this strange turn of events. Well, that was Clint for you. 

“I’m-” Clint swallowed before continuing, “I’m not gay.” 

“Okay? So what? Neither am I.” 

“Then what in the fuck is going on?” Clint demanded.

Bruce shrugged half-heartedly, “I dunno. Platonic soulmates perhaps? I’d have to do more research but-“ He cut off at the sound of Clint’s barking laugh. 

“Research? That’s such a you thing, Bruce. How would you even go about researching soulmates?”

“I mean-“ 

“Not to imply we’re soulmates. Because we aren’t, and I’m not gay.” Clint rambled. 

“I’m not-“

“But if I WAS gay, you’d still be my bro. And Tony would be my man. For sure.”

“Um. Okay, well-“

“Sugar baby for life, you know?”

“I’ll admit, I’m not against chasing a bag.” Bruce chuckled. “But you’re one of my best buds. This doesn’t change that. If anything, it solidifies it.” Clint looked down. Back up. 

“I was just about to take the kids to Stark’s for movie night, you in?”

Bruce hesitated. “I wasn’t going to-“

“Come one, dude, it’s not like you have other plans!” Clint moved closer, playfully punching Bruce in the arm. 

Bruce huffed. “Alright. What is it?”

“Shrek 2.” Clint laughed at the loud groan Bruce gave at that.


	4. MJ/Shuri

This is not how Shuri expected this morning to go. She was supposed to update the tech on her idiot brother's suit and then prepare for Wakanda's opening ceremony to the rest of the world. If she couldn't correctly connect these two wires, then T'Challa's suit would fry. Which, admittedly, would be hilarious; but she didn't exactly have time to build a new one if she fucked this one up.

Hence creating the perfect opportunity for her soulmate to fuck it up for her. She felt a tug on her navel and groaned in exasperation. "Really, MJ, what now?" It better be something good if MJ was disrupting her hard work on something MJ knew was important. The tugging only got stronger, but only when it began to physically nauseate her did she start following it and walking towards the door that led out to the southern force field. 

She heard T'Challa call out an irritated "Shuri, have you finished the upgrades? The ceremony starts in half an hour." 

Waving a careless hand, she said, "Not now, brother. I have some important business to attend to."

"More important than the fate of your country?"

"Yes."

T'challa sighed. It was just an unstoppable force against an immovable object. Shuri kept walking the opposite direction.

MJ better have war crimes to gossip about. Shuri pulled her phone out of her pocket to see if MJ had left any messages (Shuri kept it on silent while she was working; her brother caused enough chaos in her expensive-ass, high-tech-ass lab) only to find that her phone was 100% dead. Uh oh, stinky? She absently wondered why she hadn't yet invested the time or resources into a charging phone case. Or a solar powered phone. Or something.

The bond kept its incessant nagging, so Shuri continued on her way. At this point, she had already passed all the farming lands and was closer to the shield that protected the country. A goat—she made a mental reminder to send James a picture of the baby goats to let him know how they were doing—bleated at her as she tried to keep from flying across the goat feeding grounds. God, she was going to have words with MJ once she got her phone charged. 

Eventually, the tug brought her directly in front of the barrier. Digging her heels in, Shuri attempted to keep from literally running face first into the force field but the pull was stronger than her efforts.

Bouncing off the invisible wall in front of her, she winced and made to get back up. Unfortunately, her girlfriend had no mercy; MJ continued yanking before Shuri could make it back to her feet. She cursed as she heard her face smack against the force field more so than felt it. Is this how Mjolnr feels all the time, she asked herself. This was not very sexy of MJ and Shuri had every intention of letting her know that as soon as MJ stopped yanking her so Shuri could get to a charger. She wondered if MJ was struggling to tug their lasso of kindred spirits. Or whatever the kids called it these days. A love lasso? She didn't know, she didn't care, plus she was gay. For MJ. Who would NOT stop (fucking with her) forcing her face into the barrier. 

She feels the lasso tug grow stronger (which, OW) and suddenly there is no force field and she's flying through the sky, falling horizontally. It almost reminded her of what falling in love was like. Her legs were dangling behind her as she vaulted through the air. She must be a sight to see. It'd be funny if it were anyone but her, quite honestly. Green gave way to blue underneath her. Christ, did MJ have the Hulk helping string her along? She was soaring. 

Blue gave way to city lights and the background of a setting sky (it was mid morning in Wakanda; had she really been dragged through that many time zones in the span of a moment?) and Shuri knew her destination was coming up soon. She tucked her chin into her legs, cannonball style, right before crashing through the glass panes that made up the windows of Tony Stark's living room. Dragging herself onto her knees, she looked up to see Hulk Banner looming over MJ. 

"Gotta say," MJ said with a sly grin, "Didn't think you'd be this forward."

“My phone died," Shuri replied, not dignifying MJ's snarky comment with a response. Shuri climbed to her feet. "But this better be good."

MJ gave Shuri one of those sweet smiles that Shuri knew were saved just for her. "We're out of milk and I don't feel like driving, my love."


	5. Tony/Stephen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> yag a

Tony was a man of science. Which included (but was not limited to) this whole new lasso mates phenomenon. The experiment was simple in theory; lasso and hope for the best. However, he couldn't account for his supposed soulmate's reaction. 

Being naturally curious, Tony decided to test it out while he was down in his lab one day. He hadn't actually put much thought into the why, after all, he was running on the adrenaline that came with science and coffee. 

"FRI, begin recording for take one of Experiment: TEST (The Existence of Soulmates Test)," Tony called. 

"On it, boss." 

With that affirmation, Tony took a deep breath, wondering what the hell he was thinking trying to find out if he had a goddamn soulmate of all things. This seemed much too magic-y for him. Maybe he'll see what Strange thinks about this whole thing. But for now, he's got an experiment to conduct. 

Taking his place on the stool at his favorite lab table, Tony threw the lasso feeling like a complete idiot, and began to pull. 

To his utter surprise, a familiar orange glow lit up and he caught a glimpse of the Sanctum just before none other than Dr. Stephen Strange stumbled out of the portal and flailed onto Tony's lab table. There was a loud thud as Stephen's body hit the table, but Tony didn't really notice. Honestly, he was too busy freaking out over how the hell Stephen ended up in his lab seemingly without meaning to. Stephen couldn't be his- no, nope he was not going down that road right now. 

Except, he really needed to ask, "What the fuck?" Despite his surprise, Tony managed to keep his composure at the unexpected guest in his high-tech, private lab. Although, he really needed to get some magic wards in the building because he did not want a repeat of this. 

Slowly, Stephen eased himself off the table, dusting off his wizard robes. "I feel like I should be asking you that." 

"How the hell did you just open a portal to here on accident and then fall through it?" Tony demanded. "Did you slip on a banana peel or something?" 

"No," Stephen dragged the word at as if Tony were dense. (He was. Sometimes.) "I did not open a portal at all, and yet here I am. I assume this is your fault." Stephen's face was completely blank. Frankly, he looked like he owned the place. Tony was not used to other people exuding confidence in his presence, and he found it kinda hot. 

"My fault?" Tony stood up, throwing his hands out. "You're the one who's trespassing by being in my lab," he accused. 

Crossing his arms with an unbothered expression, Stephen asked, "Well, what were you doing before the portal appeared?"

"I was-" He cut himself off with a guilty look before continuing, "I was testing the soulmate lasso conspiracy..." 

"-And here I am." 

Tony nodded. "And here you are."

"Now kith." Both men turned to see two (2) Gen Z gremlins in the doorway, watching with avid glee, hoping to finally eat like a goddamn family for once. 

"We're not-" Stephen said at the same time as Tony said, "Finally an experiment outcome I can get behind." 

Peter's nose scrunched up as he and Harley let out similar "Eww, Tony" comments. 

Tony just laughed. "You're the ones who suggested it." 

Smirking, Stephen grabbed Tony by the collar and slotted their lips together causing more groans from the teenagers. 

"Oh," Tony said, "This is definitely my favorite experiment to date." 

"Can we have waffles for dinner?" They vaguely heard Peter suggest. They kissed harder. "Can we PLEASE have waffles for dinner?!"


	6. Clint/Steve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not Steve friendly :)))) levesqueen still loves him tho (no homo)

Clint breathed into his mask. This was the last kill he thought he'd be making, not to say he wasn't a bit giddy about it. Why, you might be asking yourself, would someone be giddy about assassinating one of their oldest comrade in arms? The answer was simple: the payout was large and he had dirty tricks against Steve that no one else did. That he'd never get the chance to use again. 

He waited.

Steve was an early to bed, early to rise kind of guy. That's how it was during their time back in Wakanda anyway. Clint willed the thoughts away; Steve meant nothing to him, and the soulmate lasso hoax was just that-a hoax. He wasn't gay and Steve wasn't his friend, though Clint would admit that Steve had a nice ass for a guy. Clint checked the time on his watch. 9:05 pm. He could already hear Steve's footprints coming down the drive. Clint wiggled in his spot on the roof (Steve wouldn't look up; he never had before). All this talk of Steve's ass had Clint flushing and he was suddenly very uncomfortable. No homo tho. 

Grabbing his knife, Clint held it out in front of him as Steve came into view. The second he saw him, Clint threw his 'lasso' and yanked Steve towards himself. 

Steve's backside collided with Clint's front (and if he was hard ain't nobody was gonna know) and his ass nearly grinded into Clint's crotch area. It just so happened that these movements also resulted in Steve being thoroughly impaled on the knife Clint was holding. 

Unfortunate, really, there were so many better things Steve could've been impaled on. A dying shame that those things would never happen. 

"Rest in piss, Captain America's Ass."


	7. Bucky/Sam

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> minor angst and fluff, canon compliant to endgame

Three days. It had been three days since they'd buried Steve, old as fuck, next to his wife of however many goddamn years, Peggy. Bucky would never be over it. He'd killed, had blood on his hands (Steve's blood on his hands at one point, his conscious reminded him-he tried not to think about that). None of that could amount to burying his partner, the last shred of his life before all this happened. Steve, who left him for a woman he barely knew. Steve, who apparently didn't think Bucky was worth sticking around for.

Life went on, he reminded himself.

His sensitive hearing picked up music growing steadily louder as if the source of it was moving towards him. Sam appeared in the doorway to the living room with a speaker in hand blasting a seemingly modern song. Although Bucky wouldn't know if it was modern or not because he'd literally been kept in the dark about anything that didn't concern his missions. Yet another thing he wanted to forget. Bucky was still staring at Sam, who had moved farther into the room and was now swaying slightly to the music.

_Oh the taste of your lips I'm on a ride._

After placing the speaker on the coffee table, Sam raised his arms in the air now full on dancing. If that's what you wanted to call it. Honestly, Bucky thought he looked kinda like a baby deer tripping over itself while learning to walk. (And if he thought it was kinda cute, who could blame him.)

_You're toxic, I'm slipping under._

Sam was enjoying himself, genuinely enjoying himself, and who would Bucky be to hold him back from that? 

_Taste of your poison paradise._

Sam threw his left arm in the air and with his right mimicked that of a lasso. Bucky's feet moved faster than his mind and he barreled straight into Sam, who barely managed to catch them both.

_I'm addicted to you, don't you know that you're toxic._

Giggling, Sam pulled back to grab Bucky's hands in his. He shimmied his arms before raising them above their heads so that they were moving in the odd, free way Sam had been just moments before. A reluctant smile tugged at Bucky's lips. He had to admit that this was nice, that he enjoyed every second that his hands were enclosed in Sam's and they did something so effortless that he'd never had the chance to enjoy before. Bucky rested his head against Sam's chest in an attempt to hide his pleased grin but from the look Sam was giving him he knew he'd already given it away. He didn't mind much, but he still had a reputation to keep up. 

When the song ended, Sam released Bucky's hands and instead cupped his face in order to get Bucky to look at him. Sam said something about the rainbow behind the storm, something completely Sam, and Bucky decided there were much better things Sam could be doing with his mouth. In one swift move, Bucky placed his lips on Sam's. Bucky quite liked this rainbow, he decided. 


	8. Loki/Wade Wilson

Loki, while slightly in awe of the Avenger Compound, maintained his unimpressed face. Mostly because Tony Stark was giving him the tour of the place since the Avengers have learned (and been provided proof) that he was brainwashed by Thanos, and Loki is not in the mood to deal with Tony's smug attitude. Even if it was kinda hot sometimes. Besides he couldn't do anything about that because Tony already found his soulmate. So pretending it's unbearable is his only option.

Just as Tony's brought them back around to the common area, Peter and some other man in a spandex suit step out of the elevator nearby.

"Peter Benjamin Parker, what have I told you about bringing Deadpool into any of my homes?" Tony demanded from beside Loki.

Peter, bless his soul, blushing and tripping over his words. "Uh, not to?"

Tony's face took on a defeated look. "Yeah, Bambi, not to." 

"Hi Tony! Lovely to see you again," Wade said from beside Peter, "Baby boy, Petey-pie over there, invited me over after I helped him deal with some very mean baddies back in Queens." 

"Robbery!" Peter piped up, "If it weren't for Wade, the cops might've caught us this time!" Tony rubbed his temples, sighing. He hoped they were joking. 

"I don't believe we've formally met; I'm Loki." The god offered his name to the handsome masked man. _This is a new kink,_ he thought. 

"Wade," The man- _Wade,_ Loki mentally cataloged- offered. Loki eyed Wade in an a absolutely totally subtle low key way before Tony cleared his throat. The man was obviously well built and he's willing to screw with Stark, which checked like half of Loki's boxes.

"Anyway, this concludes our tour." He turned his full attention on Loki. "Make yourself at home. Kid," He eyed Peter. "Help him make himself at home." Which Loki knew meant 'don't let these two do any stupid shit.' Honestly, had Tony ever met Loki? Saying that only made Loki want to do stupid shit even more.

Peter plastered an innocent look on his face. "No trouble on my watch," he saluted and Tony rolled his eyes before disappearing into the elevator. It was a wonder Tony had bought that little act, and so quickly too. "A'ight, I'm gonna hang with the boyfriend." Peter shot finger guns at Wade and Loki, backing away towards the elevator. 

"I thought you said you'd keep us from causing problems?" Loki pointed out.

"No," Peter corrected with a shit eating grin, "I said I wouldn't let you get into trouble on my watch. I won't be watching. Do whatever you'd like as long as it's not in within my line of sight." Peter, in the footsteps of his idol, then disappears into the elevator as well, leaving Wade and Loki to do as they please. 

The two remaining people stared at each other for a moment, unsure of how to proceed. Loki's eye caught on something just beyond Wade's head and a wicked smile pulled at his lips. Turning to see what Loki was preoccupied with, Wade's own eyes widened before he pulled the mask off his head and winked at Loki. From somewhere on his person, Wade acquired many dollar bills (seriously what the fuck) as Loki casually waved a hand causing music to play from an unseen source. Loudly. 

"Oh sweet cheeks," Wade exclaimed, "How'd ya know this is my favorite song?"

A sly shrug and long, graceful strides up to the pole was the only response Loki gave. The song swelled as Loki took hold of the pole with one hand, grinding his hips a tad. He figured a little tease was in order. He heard Wade groan lowly and watched as he threw a joking lasso to Loki. 

And suddenly Wade was stumbling back from the force of Loki knocking into him at full speed. Well, fuck. 

Both of Wade's hands came up to push Loki's hair back from his face as Loki stared up at him, enthralled. "I think you owe me a dance, baby."

Loki paused, ass up. "I don't owe you shit," he said, followed by "This is for funsies, baby." And continued doing his thing. His arms gripped higher on the pole, and he swung himself up, forearms pressed to the opposite side of the pole bearing most of his weight as his right leg swung back and up, up over his head until he was doing the splits in the air. Wade cheered, throwing a couple ones as Loki threw that ass in a circle... while upside down. Iconic. 

Carefully, Loki lowered one foot back to the ground then the next, before he was suddenly on the floor in a full split. 

"Yas queen," Wade yelled, more bills leaving his hands as Loki's dance progressed. Eventually, Wade sat in a chair watching as Loki put on this incredibly captivating show just for him. Next thing he knew, he had a lapful of Loki. Apparently Loki was finishing his dance in Wade's lap. Loki continued, pardon our French, _throwing ass._ Wade brought his lips to Loki's neck, leaving the beginnings of a bruise, and-

The elevator chimes. Loki and Wade both freeze, Wade hovering over the spot where Loki's neck met his shoulder. Peter and a blond boy of similar age, probably the boyfriend Peter was referring to earlier, step out.

Peters eyebrows raise into his hairline. "When I said 'do whatever you like,' this is the last thing I expected."

"Why is there gay shit occurring in my living room?" the blond one asked.

Impossibly, Peter's eyebrows shot to previously undiscovered heights. "Harley, baby, light of my life. We're dating. You're literally gay."

Harley's looking at him like he's the stupid one. "I said no homo before we started dating. And I have socks on."

"You didn't have socks on five minutes ago when you were-" Harley's hand slapped over Peter's mouth abruptly. 

Lowering his voice, though the others could still hear him, Harley said, "Okay, darlin' we get it. I'm gay."

Smirking in triumph, Peter turns back to the duo still frozen on the chair although their expressions screamed shameless. "Loki, I assume you recall where Tony said your room was? Please use it." 

Then Peter was dragging Harley out of the room, calling cheery goodbyes. 

"So," Wade said, "Wanna move this to your room or..?"

Loki's grin was devious. "Nah," he answered, tilting Wade's face up to kiss him while grinding back down into his lap. 

Letting out a breathless laugh, Wade allowed it. "Whatever ya want, pretty boy, whatever ya want."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if there are any ships you wanna see please let us know!


End file.
